


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by Not_A_Valid_Opinion



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, Fink is homeschooled, Fink is in some of these chapters but will be mentioned quite a bit, Fluff and Humor, Gen, I'll add tags as I post, Lord Boxman and Professor Venomous live together at Voxmore, Lord Boxman can't cook, M/M, Slow Burn, Voxmore, YES i'm calling it Voxmore, adopted or not they're adorable, and I love it, because she's Venomous' minion, because that is ABSOLUTELY what LBM calls them, but we all know she's REALLY his daughter, everybody from the bodega are called the Bodega Brats, heatstroke, mentions of depression, most of these are going to be cute and fluffy, nothing sexual just cute and relationship-y touches, some will be hurt/comfort, villains association
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-01-11 00:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18419435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_A_Valid_Opinion/pseuds/Not_A_Valid_Opinion
Summary: Lord Boxman was a mess of a man and the weirdest villain Professor Venomous ever had the pleasure of knowing. After Boxman blows up his house, Venomous and Fink move into Boxmore- now referred to as Voxmore for all intents and purposes- and start a partnership together. A business partnership, that is.(A collection of oneshots- descriptions at the beginning of each chapter)





	1. Pat

**Author's Note:**

> Writing gay OK K.O. Let's Be Heroes fanfiction on the train? Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does 
> 
> Note: The show sometimes uses funky grammar like 'videos game' instead of 'video games' so I'm sticking with the source material when I do stuff like that, where I remember it being done. Every episode with Venomous in it- up to Boxman Crashes in season two- will be in this fic, so spoiler warning if you haven't seen those... what, four episodes? Three? I don't recall. Also yes I know that it's technically as of season two called "Boxmore with a V" but I... am not writing that every time. So it's Voxmore, y'all. And please note I'm not making this sexual! There will be like, probably some kissing and close contact, but nothing explicit. 
> 
> Chapter Description: Boxman can't cook, and almost sets Voxmore on fire. Thankfully, Venomous is there, with a fire extinguisher and oatmeal to make it all better.

From his time staying in Professor Venomous’ home, short as the stay was, he was able to gather that his house guest was painfully bad at housekeeping. This was apparent from the mess of clutter introduced during his stay, and Lord Boxman’s neglection to upkeep his own junk, much less the possessions that belonged to Venomous or Fink that were ruffled or dirtied in the mix. 

Plates had been dropped, walls had been demolished, and Venomous’ patience had been tested in the three days the homeless joke of a villain obliterated his home simply by existing in it. Professor Venomous had invited him in for selfish reasons, reasons he himself didn't understand, but as his house guest started to cook terribly, sing loudly, and start fires spontaneously he came to realize that whatever he was looking for, he would not get from this. 

Venomous tried to stay out of his way- to avoid acknowledging the man was in his home after all that damage he'd caused to it, despite being the one to invite him in to begin with. He'd hoped the distance he put between them would encourage the other to work on his own projects and leave his house intact. 

It did the opposite. Lord Boxman quite literally blew up his whole house, save for some space in the garage. 

It was unintentional, of course, but the Professor should still have been more mad. He thinks maybe he was, that he was even furious, but the anger had dissipated so quickly he found himself forgetting if it was really there at all. The intrusion brought an excitement to his life he felt he’d lost somewhere along the line, though he wasn’t certain when it had disappeared. Everything had just been so  _ easy  _ lately. Dealing with his own temper at the shorthand of Boxman’s destructive energy had been a struggle of its own, something more to feel, though it wasn’t what he had in mind. 

When Boxman introduced the trike he’d made for Fink, things had gotten interesting. 

Things had gotten  _ fun.  _

Now that was a feeling he hadn’t had for a while. Fun. Sure, he’d felt it before, but it was a feeling that had shrunk away overtime, lost to a reason he couldn’t place. Every day was just routine- feed Fink, care for plants, work on experiments, deal with P.O.I.N.T., feed Fink again, try to get some rest, repeat. Every day felt like a chore, like something that just had to be done before it could be done again in a slightly different way. He’s not sure when it started to feel like this, but the moment Boxman handed him a helmet and they’d let Fink cycle them to the bodega, his heart had started to race in a way he’d almost forgotten it could. Once again, Boxman had reminded him of a true evil, and desire for his own destruction and strength and the inherent pleasure that came with it. 

From then on, they’d formed a partnership. Voxmore, they’d decided to call it. Since Boxman had quite literally blown his house up (something he wasn’t  _ that  _ upset about, if he was being all that honest, because the house was so big and isolated that it sometimes made him feel empty being inside), he and Fink moved into the evil corporation. Their rooms were not far from Boxman’s own, his in a large storage room that Boxman’s bots cleared out for him and he himself furnished, since he was nothing short of brimming with cash. 

Fink’s own room was right next to his, which was similar to how it was back at his own place. It was nice, how Boxman had intentionally placed them like that. A touch he hadn’t expected from the man, but was more than pleased to note. 

Sure, Boxman was destructive. He’d destroyed his home, and crashed Billiam’s party, and was a general embarrassment to the Villain Association. 

He was also the man that reminded Venomous what it felt like to be  _ alive.  _

And what burnt food smelled like. That was a smell he had (gladly) forgotten about until Boxman found a place for himself in his life. 

The smell was circulating through Voxmore at a ridiculous rate, and Venomous pulls on his housecoat and stomps into the kitchen, noting how early in the morning it was for something to already be burning. He stops cold in his track at the head of the kitchen when he finds Boxman holding a cup of water, about to throw it on a smoking pan atop the oven burners. 

“Boxman! Stop!” He yells, diving for the man and grabbing his wrist, halting any pouring action that was in progress. A small drop of the clear liquid hits the pan, and a large flame reaches upwards. Venomous pushes them both out of the way in time, glaring at the smaller man in disbelief. 

“Boxman, you do  _ not _ pour water on a grease fire! How do you not know that?” He yells, releasing the thin wrists that don’t line up with his larger frame. Reaching into the walk-in pantry, he grabs a fire extinguisher and points it at the fire, squeezing until the flames are gone and replaced with a coat of white frothing. 

“I didn’t know I had a fire extinguisher,” Boxman says to himself, a hint of suspicion in his tone as he taps his chin thoughtfully. 

Venomous sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. It was very early, and though he was used to being up early to get work done, he was also not willing to deal with this at just shy of five in the morning. “You  _ didn’t _ have one,” he bites out, tone less harsh than he’d been trying for. He was used to yelling and being angry when his subordinates didn’t do his bidding or act reasonably, with the exception of Fink, who he could never bring himself to find any real anger at. Boxman, however, was not his subordinate. They were partners, now- both co-owning Voxmore, though Boxman was really the one with his names on all the papers. 

Which, really, made Boxman the one in charge. 

(Though, to him, that was just a technicality. He’s not sure if Boxman is even aware of this.) 

“I bought one after I realized that. I’m not sure how you’ve survived this long without one,” Venomous deadpans, and Boxman chuckles. 

“I don’t usually set things on fire! Shannon does, but she comes with a built-in fire extinguisher, so it’s a non-issue.” 

Venomous finds it hard to believe that. He stares at the scorched remains of whatever it was Boxman was frying. It’s black and crusty under all the white extinguisher, most likely stuck to the pan and impossible to remove at this point. He should probably buy some non-stick pans for Voxmore, too. Boxman wasn’t the only one going to be eating here anymore, after all. 

“Thanks for the save, though,” the man adds, putting the cup of water on the counter behind him. “That could have been nasty!” 

Venomous grunts in agreement. “Yes. Well, Boxman, if you don’t mind me asking… who taught you how to cook? Because,” he gestured to the burnt breakfast remains, also recalling the ruined meal from his first meeting at Boxmore when the bodega brats had invaded their meeting, and the many oddly flavoured, overly greasy, singed and/or oddly crunchy meals he’d tried to make at Venomous’ house, “it doesn’t look like you do it very… well.” 

It was apparent by Boxman’s general physique that he wasn’t the healthiest eater, and Venomous can’t help but wonder if it has to do with his cooking skills or if it’s a choice. 

Boxman smiles sheepishly, rubbing his forearm. “Well, I taught myself! Ah, haha, internet tutorials helped a lot, too, of course. And cooking shows!” He explains, eyes lighting up. Then, he looks away again. “Of course, I usually forget to cook along with the instructions. I usually remember the result, and try to strive for that, but, ah,” he’s sweating now, “i-it’s a process that usually doesn’t… work. So! I eat a  _ lot _ of takeout.” 

Venomous blinks. “Didn’t you cook when I came over for our business meeting?” 

“Yeeees… I bought a cooking book and everything! And I only burnt it because of those bodega brats!” 

Venomous rubs his chin, humming. Cooking was a good skill to have, and a harbinger of patience and practice that calmed the mind and rewarded in the end. At least, it was for Venomous. “It sounds to me like you just need some step-by-step instructions,” he muses. “The cooking book was a good idea. Can I see it?” 

Boxman wastes no time diving into the pantry for the book, shoving it in Venomous’ hands the moment it’s located. The villain skims through the pages, finding the meal he vaguely recognizes as the remains of what Boxman had tried to make for him and Fink. He hands it back to the larger man, page opened, and taps the image to direct Boxman’s attention to it. 

“I’d love to see you try and make this for us again tonight. Less burned, of course. I can show you how to properly season the meat, since you,” he recalls the bland pasta Boxman had made for them, “need some practice.” 

Boxman’s eyes are wide, full of childish excitement. He looks like Fink when Venomous brings home pizza as a treat. 

“You mean we’ll… make dinner… together?” He chokes out, and Venomous pats his head. An easy action, since Boxman is so short. He’s not the biggest fan of physical contact, but Boxman seems to enjoy it, so he figures it was okay every once in a while. The way the smaller man almost beams just at the touch makes Venomous' heart beat just a little bit harder, and he almost forgets that Boxman has just asked him a question. 

“You’ll make it. I’ll just help out where you look like you can use it,” Venomous explains, still trying to recover from whatever _that_ was, and Boxman shakes with joy. 

“Oh! It’ll be so good, you’ll be so impressed, Professor Venomous! It’ll taste so delicious, you- you’ll cry!” Boxman explodes, determination in his eyes, and Venomous laughs. 

“Of course, of course. Let’s have something that doesn’t require cooking for breakfast, hmmm? Oatmeal?” 

“I don’t think I own oatmeal.” 

Venomous winks. “I noticed. I bought some of that, too.” 

He turns to the pantry, not missing the glow in Boxman’s eyes as he turns away. He turns on Boxman’s kettle to boil some water as he pours them each a bowl, handing it to Boxman when it was finished. Boxman takes it and slurps, and Venomous hands him a spoon a moment later, eyes narrowed. Boxman takes the spoon and blushes, eating the oatmeal normally. 

“Y’know,” Boxman says with his mouth full, “I think cooking with you is going to be fun.” 

Venomous smiles into his bowl of oatmeal. For some weird, mundane reason- he thinks so, too. 


	2. Laces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Venomous leaves the robots in charge of Fink's homeschooling.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on the relationships with Fink more than Venomous, because I want to write what I'd like to see, and that's Venomous being a Good Dad and Boxman being a Good Husband.

Keeping Fink busy had always been difficult. When he wasn’t committing villainy that required a minion, he’d often have to leave her at home so a home-school teacher could come over- Madame Jersey, her name was, and she was a villain just like himself. Her acts of villainy ended after an injury on the field at the hands of P.O.I.N.T. shortly after she began her villainy left her with one leg and ruined pride. She could have continued her villainy, of course, but she took her injury as a sign to move on and help the next generation. She earned her education degrees, and by the time she was forty-two, Venomous hired her to babysit and educate Fink.

That arrangement lasted for three solid years before Jersey had quit in a fits, proclaiming that Fink was a ‘devil child’ and, even with the many pay raises Venomous had bribed her with over the years to keep her where she was, she finally threw in the towel.

Since then, he hadn’t found a lasting teacher for his minion. More had come and just as quickly gone. He debated sending her to an actual school, but with her reputation as his minion, she’d be recognized and any hopes of an actual education would be out the window.

So, he educated her himself. Something they didn’t have much time to do, not really, as wasn’t done well due since he’d no prior experience teaching. Still, it was an effort he felt had to be made- he bought books on literature and math for Fink to read, and found it just as much a learning experience for himself as it was for her. Education was important; being dumb could mean an injury like Madame Jersey had received- something he’d rather die himself than let happen to his minion.

Getting Fink to read them, however, was a challenge. Especially without supervision, which Venomous couldn’t always provide when he was at work, and babysitters often couldn’t hang around long enough to ensure she did them.

It was especially challenging trying to find the time to sit down with her and make sure she was understanding the material. He needed her to act as his minion just as well as he wanted her to act as the child she was and have spare time to relax as such. He himself needed to perform villainy without the stress of managing her work-school-life balance. Among that, with Fink being increasingly difficult lately, he found himself struggling to find a balance of his own.

So, when Fink fell asleep in his arms after her night with Boxman’s robot children, an idea had formed in his head. It had been discarded just as quickly, but after he’d moved into Voxmore with Fink, the idea resurfaced. After all, it would be much more accessible and even possible now that they lived together…

“Boxman, I have a request,” he says, watching Boxman’s head slam into a counter-top at the sound of his voice and cringing as he rubs it in annoyance.

“Nggghh… anything for you, Professor!” Boxman greets, sticking out a thumbs up. Venomous frowns, but decides not to comment on the startled greeting, getting right to the point.

“I need your robots to babysit Fink more often, if you’re willing to spare them. Along with this,” he waves a hand around, “I would like them to try and get her to study. She’s home-schooled, and if your bots could download her lessons and help her work through them, she’d get them done a lot better than trying to study herself. She’s always found it… tedious, and getting her to do it is a job in and of itself.”

Boxman nods. “Of course, Professor Venomous! That sounds like a wonderful idea! Raymond in particular is my most patient child; he’d be perfect for the job. Just give me her lesson plan and I’ll make sure him and my other children get the job done as often as you need. I’ve got plenty to spare, after all!”

Venomous feels a weight lift off his chest. “That would be amazing, Lord Boxman.”

 

* * *

 

“Fink!” Venomous calls, taking off his coat. He’d just gotten back from a villains meeting with Lord Boxman, who hadn’t been invited but tagged along anyway. Nobody seemed to mind- at least not to his face. After news got out about their ‘partnership’, villains had talked to him less, and certainly hadn’t talked to him about Boxman. It was weird, but as long as it did not interfere with their work, he couldn’t care less.

He learned that from Boxman himself.

“Fink!” He calls again, after he gets no reply. She had very good hearing- it was weird to not immediately be greeted by her at the door, much less get no response. He frowns and turns to Boxman to let him know he was going to go look for her, but ends up just staring at the smaller man, watching as he tries to untie his shoelaces by biting them.

“Oh, boy,” Venomous mumbles to himself, bending over to untie them for him.

Boxman laughs awkwardly as Venomous works. “I uh, might have gotten a bit too excited, tying them before we left the house.”

Venomous struggles with the knot. “How did you- why didn’t you just wear your normal boots?”

“I wanted to look fancy!” Boxman whines, and Venomous can’t help but smirk, finally getting the knot undone. He doesn’t have too, but he takes the shoes off for him as well, putting it on the rack before moving to help him with the other.

“I thought you didn’t care about what the other villains thought of you,” Venomous muses as he works through the other knot. He nearly misses the blush that creeps onto Boxman’s face, as the man laughs loudly, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

“No, no! I wasn’t trying to impress _them,”_ he says, slowly, look away. Venomous pauses, deciphering the meaning behind the words.

“Oh,” he says, after a beat. He finds a small blush forming on his own cheeks, and he continues to untie his other lace, slower this time. He finishes pulling the shoe off and places it beside the other on the rack, then stands. Boxman does the same, staring anywhere but at him. The blush is still there, and Venomous can't help smiling fondly at it.

Boxman was truly something else.

“I’m going to go check on Fink,” he says, less curt than usual, and walks away before he can ponder it any longer.

He makes his way to Fink’s room, and can see lights and the sound of game music playing from inside. He cracks the door open to see the back of Fink’s head- along with Boxman’s three main robot children- playing a game on the console Fink had salvaged from their old house. A game over screen flares up on the TV, and Fink hollers, while the robots groan.

“You cheated!” Darrell accuses.

His minion scoffs. “Nuh-uh! You guys just suck!”

“This game sucks!” Shannon yells.

“Says the one who sucked the worst- you got last place, butt-face! You did worse than the CPUs!” Fink cackles.

Raymond scoffs. “Their difficulty settings are way too high. It’s no fair!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!” The robots yells in unison.

“Is- Boss!” Fink shouts, finally noticing the professor standing in the doorway.

“Fink,” he greets, voice blank. “It’s very late. Should you be playing games at a time like this, or should you be in bed?”

Fink hopes over the couch and runs over to him, the robots watching in uncertainty, as though they didn’t know if they were in trouble. “I-I’m sorry, Boss! I’ll go to bed right away!”

Venomous kneels down and holds her shoulder gently before she can run off. “It’s okay, Fink. Just have the volume down less, next time. Anybody could have come in the door, and you wouldn’t have heard.”

Fink looks ashamed. “Sorry, Boss. I was just showing those losers,” she gestures to the robots on the couch who all clearly look offended, “how to play some videos game. You know they’ve never played one before? Boxman doesn’t own any consoles! Isn’t that sad, Boss?”

Fondly, he ruffled her hair. “Very. But, it’s time for bed, kiddo. Go get some rest.”

Fink gives him a large hug and disappears down into her room. He stands and turns to glare at the robots, only to blink when he comes face-to-face with a handful of papers.

Raymond’s hands are shaking slightly as he holds them out. “Please look at these before you yell at us,” he squeaks, and Venomous takes the papers curiously, eyes widening as he realizes they’re the lessons he’d typed up for his minion.

He flips through the sheets. They were all completed with Finks messy handwriting, and there was far more there than he’d expected her to get through in one night.

“I downloaded the information just as you asked, and we all read the notes to her,” Raymond explains as he reads through the notes, confirming the details to himself as he continues, “she read along with us. She’s very smart, and we were able to get through all the material. We even checked all of her answers- most were correct, and we went through which ones she did wrong.”

Darrell nods vigorously. “Ya! Her grammar could use work, and she’s _awful_ at fractions. We’ll make sure to whip up some practice sheets for her in the morning,” the robot finishes, and the two bow and shuffle back to Shannon’s side. Shannon watches with just as much anticipation as Raymond and Darrell, all looking equally uncomfortable as Professor Venomous overlooks the papers.

They’re all quite well done, really, with clear corrections made and notes added. The robots may not be be street smart on their own- not _really,_ anyway- but could clearly be book smart with the correct information downloaded off the U.S.B. stick Venomous provided, containing the lesson contents he’d illegally downloaded from a local elementary school. He thinks he should have had more trouble doing something like that, but as a villain chooses not to stress over it.

Venomous shuffles the papers back together, staring back at the uneasy robots.

“I’m impressed,” he praises, and the three release the tensions in their posture, practically melting to the floor as Venomous continues. “I’ve never seen her work this hard in one night. Keep up the good work, you three.”

Shannon scoots from the floor over the him, clasping his hand. “Thank you, Sir! We won’t let you down!”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Yes Sir!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If i spell Darrell as Daryl or something OOPS that's what I had in my first draft I was sounding it out and didn't realize it was wrong


	3. cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boxman gets heatstroke. Venomous does his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be a two part piece... but na   
> SO THAT NEW EPISODE HUH  
> I really didnt expect there to be another episode so soon and I was DELIGHTED to see it focus on the children with their relationship as a background, but absolutely THERE. Its what I love to see! Slice of Life my dudes!!!

It was hot out. 

Ridiculously hot out. A heat warning was in effect, keeping everybody inside as well as possible. Boxman’s robots had their own cooling features so they wouldn’t overheat on days like these, and he sends them to attack the bodega, attempting to use the heat to their advantage. 

Somehow, they still manage to lose. 

Boxman runs across the street to scold his children, dragging them back to the base. Venomous himself was working in the lab he’d set up in the lower levels of Voxmore, but could hear the ruckus of Boxman’s yelling of his disappointment in them from upstairs as he re-enters the house. 

Then he hears a thump. 

Then he hears robots yelling incoherently. He debates going upstairs to figure out what’s going on, but Fink, from her spot in the corner where she was working on a colouring book, hops up and says, “I’ll go check it out, Boss!” 

With that, she scurries up the steps, and Venomous turns back to his lab counter and tries to keep his mind focused. He was working on a design that would be compatible with the weapons Boxman was designing and that could better incorporate glorbs to their full potential with a small degree of glorb wastage each time it was powered up. He drops another dollop of glorb energy into a catheter and swirls it around in the mixture he’d created, sighing as it dissipates almost immediately. That wasn’t what he wanted to happen. It needed to be able to fuse into a more dense molecular structure- 

The sound of Fink’s panicked call from upstairs has him instantly abandoning the thought, putting away the mixture haphazardly and racing up the steps. 

He finds something he really didn’t expect to find. 

Lord Boxman, face down on the floor, with Fink’s ears to his chest and his three broken, yet still conscious, robots pacing and yelling in panic over each other. 

Fink looks up at his arrival. “He’s out cold, Boss! Still breathing!” 

Venomous slides down to the floor and props Boxman up with his leg, noticing the sweat along the smaller man’s face. “What happened?” 

Shannon, who was missing an arm (probably thanks to those bodega brats) is crying as she says, “he came to get us and then passed out as soon as he got in the house!” 

Venomous frowns. He stares down at Boxman, who simply looked like he was asleep, but sweat was caked along his whole frame and betrayed his expression for one more of discomfort than actual slumber. His head was soaked, his hair sticking to his cheeks and lab coat stuck to his neck. 

He couldn’t have been outside for more than ten minutes to lug the salvaged remains of his children back to Voxmore, but it wasn’t just hot out- it was  _ scorching _ . Nobody was recommended to be stepping foot outside. He wonders idly how the robots managed to lose in these conditions, but figured it wasn’t important at the moment. 

Was it possible Boxman had passed out from the heat? 

“Go grab some cold towels, Fink. Shanon, turn up the air conditioning. I’m going to take him to the basement to cool down. Daryl, bring me a set of more weather appropriate clothes for him to wear. Raymond, get some water.” 

“Yes Boss!” 

“Yes Professor!” 

“Sure thing, Professor!” 

“Of course, Professor!” 

Venomous scoops Boxman up in his arms. He’s grossly wet and unsurprisingly heavy, and he struggles over to the stairs, doing his best not to drop the man. As he makes it to the bottom of the steps, Boxman’s eyes flutter open, and Venomous lays him on his lab table, grabbing his science equipment and putting it on the counter so he could better lay Boxman out. 

“V’n’mous?” Boxman mumbles. 

“Good morning, Lord Boxman. Pleasant nap?” He greets slyly, unbuttoning the man’s lab coat. It was way past the morning, but Boxman doesn’t seem to care, just closes his eyes again. 

“Uhhuuuuuuugh,” he groans, voice more hoarse than usual, “what… happened?” 

Venomous leans him up to shrug him out of the coat. He’s pulling his chicken arm out as he says blankly, “you passed out. Are you anemic, or was it just _ that  _ hot outside? You’re not diabetic, are you?” 

Boxman blinks slowly, vaguely watching as his other arm is slid out from his sleeve, revealing a dirty, sweaty tank top underneath. “Not… no, no it’s- it’s, uh,” he mumbles, eyes closing, and promptly passes out again. Venomous can’t figure out if he should be shaking him awake and panicking, or rolling his eyes and letting him rest. 

Fink hops down the stairs, the three robots all right behind her, and they all hand over any requested items. 

Venomous opts to cooling him down with the cold towels before changing him into the fresh, less soaked t-shirt provided. The next time he wakes up, he’d make him drink the bottled water, as well. He could hear the air conditions roaring from the vents as well, louder than they had been before. 

“Does he have any medical conditions?” Venomous asks the robot children, since Boxman’s own answer was semi-incoherent. 

They all share looks. 

“Uh… not that we know of?” Daryl provides uncertainly, and at Venomous’ glare, the robots shrink away. 

Fink pulls at his pant leg. “I can raid his bathroom pantry to look for any medicine if you want, Boss!” 

He shakes his head. It was a good idea, but would be a huge invasion of privacy. He continues to pat the smaller, much rounder man with the towel, attempting to lower his body temperature. He already felt better than he had when he’d first arrived on the scene, which was progress, but he was worried of what to do if he had serious heatstroke. He wasn’t equipped to handle this! Should he take him to the hospital? No, just keep him cool, wake him up, get him to drink water, go from there. If it gets worse, then he could take him to the hospital. He didn’t want himself or Boxman to get arrested, however- something that was in high chances if he took Boxman in. 

He could take him to a villains hospital, but the others in the association were always so… hostile, when it came to Boxman. At first, he was on the same page as them, so he figured it was justified. Yet, after spending time with him and learning just how passionate he was about villainy in his own way, he realized the reasons for why the villains didn’t like Boxman was petty and unfair. 

It might not bother Boxman, but it bothered Venomous to no end. 

Once cleaned of his sweat, Venomous removes the sticky tank top and cools him down where it once was before drying him off and slipping on the new t-shirt. Once it was on him, he could see the pattern, and he has to stop himself from laughing. 

The t-shirt was a bright pink, a colour that actually looked very nice in contrast to his pastel green hair. In the centre of the shirt was the words, ‘I eat heroes for breakfast’ and just below that, the printed image of his own face with his tongue sticking out as a delicacy. 

It was enough to make Venomous stare for longer than he’d intended, and Fink pulls on his pant leg again. It snaps him out of whatever thought he was about to- and was grateful he didn’t- have, and he turns to look at his Minion, who looks annoyed. 

“Is he gonna die or something?” She complains more than asks, and Venomous pats her head. He knew she had some kind of fondness for Boxman since he’d built her that trike, and was just putting up a wall in case Venomous’ answer was something she didn’t want to hear. 

He looks her in the eyes. “He’ll be fine,” he assures, and her wall softens slightly, her head swinging away before Venomous can see. He smiles fondly. She was such a strong girl, Fink. 

He turns back to Boxman, who was still passed out. Deciding to test his luck, he grabs the water bottle and unscrews the lid, pouring some of it onto his face. 

Boxman shoots up, yelling something unintelligible, and almost fall off the counter before Venomous catches him.   

“Hey, hey, Boxman! You okay?” He asks, trying to keep the concern from his voice, but at his jerk reaction, he doesn’t have much time to guard his own voice. If Boxman notices this, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he groans and grabs his head. 

“I feel like someone… something semi truck…” he slurs, groaning his way through the words. 

Venomous licks his lips, takes a breath. “Boxman, I need you to tell me what happened. You passed out. Do you know why?” 

Boxman thinks for a moment. He clears his throat, which sounds scratchy, and Venomous hands him the water bottle, still half full despite the contents that spilled onto his face. Boxman swipes it greedily from him and finishes the whole bottle, which Venomous thinks might be a bad idea, but doesn’t have the heart to take it away from him in time. 

Boxman throws the bottle away, and judging by the _ tink  _ that emits from behind him, he assumes it hits one of his children. Daryl emits an, “ow!” which answers that. 

“It’s so hot outside!” Boxman exclaims. “Goodness, I felt like the sun punched me square in the jaw. I’ve never felt so hot in all my life, it was like my insides had gone gooey!” 

Venomous sighs in relief. Definitely heat stroke, then, but Boxman sounded like he was getting better already. He just needed to stay cool and drink lots of water, and Venomous needed to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t try to do anything strenuous. 

“Well, you’ll stay inside, now. No more going out there until it cools over, and especially no running and heavy lifting while out,” he instructs, tossing a thumb over his shoulder to gesture at the robots behind him. 

Boxman follows his thumb with his eyes, rolling his own and falling back on the table at the sight of his robots. “I can’t  _ believe  _ they lost on a day were we had such a great advantage,” he whines. On a usual day, it would probably have been a much louder scolding- something Boxman probably didn't have the energy for at the moment. 

They all look incredibly sheepish, but it’s Shannon who says, “we’re sorry, Daddy. They had anti-heat suits.” 

Boxman and Venomous both sigh. Because, of  _ course _ they did. “Oh, whatever. Go be bothersome somewhere else!” 

The robots slowly and sadly shuffle from the room, and Fink cackles from where she stands at Venomous’ leg. Venomous leans down to pick her up so she can better see Boxman. “Told you he’d be fine,” he whispers to her, and she blushes and crosses her arms. 

“Tch, I wasn’t worried!” she proclaims, and Venomous softly chuckles, cradling her in his arm. He uses his free arm to grip Boxman’s shoulder. 

“You should take it easy, Boxman. Why don’t we stay in tonight? I can order us a pizza,” he says, and Fink gasps excitedly in his arm, “and we can watch a movie, hmm?” 

Venomous watches as Boxman seems to melt into a thought, leaning his head on his hand. “That,” says the man who just passed out, voice so soft and scratchy and, in that moment, something Venomous leans into more than he realizes, “sounds great.” 

 

They watch something Boxman and Fink pick out together. It’s animated, and silly, and Fink calls it childish but is watching intently anyway, while Boxman laughs at the potty humor and settles himself onto Venomous’ chest. He's still quite hot to touch, and Venomous frequently offers him water and offers to grab him a wet cloth for his head. Boxman weakly protests only until the cloth is pressed gingerly against his skin- like a switch, he's sighing and relaxing into the repetitive motion. The action takes up more of his concentration than the movie, but he suspects neither of them were really watching, anyway. 

When Boxman tells him that his hands are nice and cold, and takes them between his own, Venomous doesn’t quite hold his smaller hands back. 

He doesn’t pull away, either. 


End file.
